


Heart Shaped Box.

by Meowzalot



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blow Job, Car Sex, Grunge Greg, Hand Jobs, I suck at tags, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Preppy Mycroft, Semi-Public Sex, Virgin Mycroft, bare backing, shagging in a public bathroom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-04-01
Packaged: 2018-01-17 15:18:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1392493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meowzalot/pseuds/Meowzalot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly might have found someone to buy the spare concert ticket but did it have to be such a rod up the arse prep?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MystradeSexyTimes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MystradeSexyTimes/gifts).



> Not betaed. So sorry. haha. Grunge Greg and Preppy Mycroft. A certain someone on Tumblr put the idea in my head. I feel as if I totally went against what you wanted though! I am so so sorry and I hope you like this. I just went overboard. Forgive me.
> 
> I went for the more Greg is grunge thing. Kind of a weakness of mine. Blame it on the flannel I own.

“Jim said he can’t make it.”

“What aren’t you telling me? Molly?” Greg glared straight ahead like he was talking face-to-face to Molly instead of just over the phone.

“He just mentioned how he didn’t think it was fair to pay for a ticket when he’s not going.”

The noise of agony wasn’t completely made up as Greg slammed his head back against the pillow, eyes squeezing shut. Not Mollys fault. Not her fault the guy she was dating was a complete twat.

“I know, Greg! Listen, I’ll pay you back for Jims ticket, and his added share of the gas money, okay? It’ll be fine.”

Rubbing at the bridge of his nose Greg shook his head, grinning fondly. He really did love this girl. “How about you just see if you know someone who’ll want to buy the ticket and we’ll call it even.” He offered. It went without saying she couldn’t afford to pay him back for the ticket, let alone the gas money. The life of a student wasn’t known for being glamorous.

Getting off the phone after Molly agreed he just laid there, listening to the dorm around him settle in for the night. Just this one thing. As soon as the Foo Fighters had announced tour dates Greg had gotten online to look, like always.

The closest place was still about six hours away but for a moment he’d sat there just thinking about it. Before he knew it he’d called up Molly, Phil, and Sally. Tickets weren’t on sale yet but that gave them a chance to save up, right? Pacing around the dorm room Greg had rambled about how they deserved this. They were each working themselves to the bone for school. From what he knew they were all passing. They deserved this!

Molly had been the one to suggest bringing Jim along, a guy she was kind of seeing at the time. Jim couldn’t afford the ticket at the time so Greg had offered, for Mollys sake, to get the guys ticket and Jim could just pay him back.

Now that little rat bastard wasn’t going. It wouldn’t exactly ruin the whole trip but things had been budgeted pretty tight for the five of them. The gas to get there, not to mention the bloody hotel! Nothing cheaper would be able to book them so damn close to the concert.

 

The whole next day Greg could barely pay attention in class. Checking his cell for any text from Molly about finding someone who would buy the ticket. He hadn’t said a thing to Sally or Phil about this.

Finally, around lunch, his phone started buzzing wildly.

“Greg! I have great news!”

Greg pulled the phone away from his ear at the excitedly high pitched tone. “You found someone to buy the ticket?”

“Even better! I found someone who can car pool with us for the gas, and split the hotel room cost! It’s one of my classmates. Mycroft Holmes.”

“Mycroft? What the hell kinda name is that?”

“Oh be nice, _Gregory_.”

“That’s a normal name! Who names their kid Mycroft?”

“Do you want him to go or not?”

Was there really a choice? “Of course I do. The guy is actually going to go, right?”

“Of course he is. Oh, there he is. Mycroft!” 

Greg tensed at the sound of muffled voices before hearing what sounded like a phone exchanging hands.

“Hello? Mr. Lestrade I presume?”

Was this guy for real? “Just ‘Greg’ is fine. So, you do know the concert is next weekend, right?”

“Yes. Molly informed me of everything. Including what my payment would be. If you’ll excuse me.”

And with that Molly came back on the phone so excited Greg could just about see her jumping up and down. What type of guy had she made this arrangement with? Well, whatever. They needed the money if they didn’t want to sleep in the cars. It had occurred to Greg but Sally had been more than a little against that idea.

**X Departure X**

His mum would have had a stroke looking at him. The faded jeans were torn, his knees poking through like crazy. The dingy red flannel shirt was unbuttoned with the sleeves rolled up, and even the shirt beneath that looked more than a little worn with a hole taking out one of the bright yellow ‘X’s that served for an eye on the smiley face.

Tying up the scuffed up leather boots Greg grabbed the patch ridden duffel and left his dorm, bounding downstairs with keys jingling in his hand.

The dinged up gray car looked a mess. Right down to the spray paint designs in the side from the times Greg had gotten drunk with his mates and felt a little creative, or that’s how he explained it. Besides the aesthetics the car ran smooth, and the sound system was the best he could afford. Another guilty pleasure.

Cranking the volume up Greg peeled out of the student parking lot with a wild cry of excitement that couldn’t be heard over the blaring NIRVANA.

Mollys school was about half an hour from where he attended with Phil and Sally, and since Molly was his best mate he’d agreed to grab her and Mycroft while Phil and Sally took another car. Couldn’t shag in a crowded car, could ya?

Pulling up in front of Mollys dorm he rolled the window down, comically giving her a once over before doing a playful wolf whistle. Black Converse with designs of her favorite bands drawn onto the white toes, ripped jeans with safety pins holding some of the bigger holes closed, and her black flannel was baggy and rather familiar. “Thought you said you lost that one.” He teased, sparing a glance at the guy she’d been talking to.

Dark colored slacks? A white button up with a tie and blazer over that. Looked like something his dad would’ve made him wear.

“Why don’t you go find Mycroft? We should really get going.”

There was an awkward moment of silence as Molly blushed, fiddling with her black streaked pony tail. The boy next to her had grown straighter, if possible.

“You’re Mycroft, right, mate?” Greg asked with a weak chuckle. “Greg Lestrade. You going dressed like that?”

“Greg!” Molly snapped, grabbing her duffel to toss into the trunk.

“I’m just saying it looks a little uncomfortable!” He tried to defend but how could anyone think _that_ looked comfortable? Maybe the guy was going just to get into Mollys knickers? Normally Greg couldn’t blame a guy for trying but Molly was like a little sister. He didn’t think he could handle watching this rod up the arse preppy prat trying to make the moves on Molly all weekend.

“I wasn’t aware we were following a dress code, Gregory.” Mycroft said calmly, glancing at the back seat like it was a testing site for biochemical weapons. It wasn’t dirty, just a few papers and wear and tear. That was normal!

“I’ll sit in the back.” Molly said quickly, taking Mycrofts bag and stuffing it into the trunk before slamming it shut.

If this Holmes bloke was trying to get into Mollys knickers he wasn’t really trying hard, was he? Greg wanted to flat out ask but Molly could get quite the temper. Getting her pissed when they were going to have to share a hotel room was just not a good idea.

It was a little bit of a dick move but Greg turned the music up louder than before, yelling with the lyrics as Molly bobbed her head along in the back seat. Beside him Mycroft remained quiet, looking out the window. Once Greg could have sworn he saw the preppy twat mouthing along with the words but it had just been Mycrofts reflection in the passenger side window.

 

They only stopped a few times for gas, snacks, and drinks. Not to mention a chance to work out their legs. Well, him and Molly anyway. Mycroft seemed happy enough to just sit in the car.

Leaning back against the car while the pump was going Greg spared a quick glance at Mycroft again, trying to picture this guy at anything but a ballet recital. Pretty damn hard. After putting the pump back Greg got back into the drivers seat, tapping the steering wheel lightly. “Molly’ll be out in a bit. So, you have classes with Molly?” He asked, wishing he just hadn’t said anything when Mycroft sighed disdainfully beside him.

“You could say that. While I do not find the school very promising it has one of the best political science departments.”

“Don’t need to act like you’re above it or something.” Greg grumbled. Molly had worked her arse off to get into that school. It felt like this prick was saying he was better than Molly because the school wasn’t good enough for him.

Mycroft looked at him now, eyes narrowed and expression somehow both cold and blank. “It is very obviously clear you do not care for me, Gregory. I did not come on this trip to be forced into tedious social conversation with not real end goal.”

“It’s _Greg_! Just Greg!” He snapped. “You pompous arse!”

The tension mounted as they waited for Molly. It couldn’t have been more than five minutes but both boys were silently fuming by the time Molly got back in the car.

Who did Mycroft think he was? Most likely some rich little twat who had mummy and daddy on speed dial. Which was kind of a shame really. Greg wouldn’t admit it but Mycroft was kind of cute. Even with clothes on he looked like he’d be soft with pudge. Another thing Greg had never admitted was he had a thing for slightly chubby girls, and guys it seemed.

Ah sodding hell! His fingers tightened around the leather steering wheel. Maybe he could meet someone tonight. If he was actually finding a prep like Mycroft hot he must really be overdue on a hook up. The idea of finding a cute, chubby, auburn haired chick at the concert tonight was almost enough to put him back in a great mood. Maybe he could even have freckles?

 

“Okay. I guess the girls can share a bed?” Greg suggested, looking between the two beds and the couch. When Sally and Phil started whining about that arrangement Greg felt the urge to lock himself in the bathroom until the concert in a few hours. “Fine! You two sleep in that bed but if you wake us up in the middle of the night again I’ll kick you both out. Molly and Mycroft can share that bed, and I’ll take the couch. Everyone happy now?”

Mycroft cleared his throat. “I feel I speak for both Molly and myself when I say it makes more sense for you two to share a bed. I’ll. . take the couch.” Mycroft said but he looked at the couch like it was infested.

Whatever. If he wanted the couch he could have it.

 

It was still a few hours until the concert started, leaving plenty of wiggle room to grab something to eat beforehand. Greg opted to remain behind for a nap, almost changing his mind when Mycroft said something about staying behind to shower and clean up.

“See you soon, Molly. Try not to stab anyone with a fork.” Greg teased, hugging her around the shoulders before she left with Phil and Sally.

Flopping back onto one of the beds he turned on the TV, trying to ignore Mycroft moving around the room.

He was somewhat lulled by the sound of the shower. Greg felt his eyes drifting closed as he pictured Mycroft in the shower now. All soft and dripping wet. . 

Reaching down Greg tried to adjust himself in his jeans, biting his lower lip when the contact just made the problem worse. That preppy little Holmes was moving around now, Greg could hear him. Most likely a prude. Greg tried to talk himself down as his palm kneaded his groin, eyes drifting closed.

Wait. Was Mycroft singing in the shower?

Putting the TV volume on ‘mute’ Greg propped up to listen closely, eyes going wide at the sound.

“ _. . I’ve been drawn into your tar pit trap. ._ ” The voice kept going up and down, most likely Mycrofts attempts to remain quiet and unheard.

Singing in the shower should not be a turn on. Greg tried to tell himself he’d just hook up with someone tonight. This was just from the past few months of having no one. He didn’t actually want Mycroft.

“ _. . Cut myself on Angel hair and baby’s breath. ._ ”

Flopping back onto the bed he tore his hand away from between his legs, breathing a little heavier. 

 

Who wore slacks and a button up to a bloody grunge concert? It was almost embarrassing to walk into the venue with Mycroft. Not completely because of his ridiculous outfit either. They were pushing their way through the crowd when the incident happened.

Greg paused for just a second to debate grabbing a beer before finding the others. Mycroft came to a halt beside him, and a guy who had already had one too many bumped into the still figures.

The two plastic cups overflowing with beer spilled mostly onto the cream colored button up, soaking into the fabric as everyone within a few feet just hushed and stared.

“Oi! You bloody puff! Whatcha thinkin’ just standin’ around for?” The drunken man growled, throwing the half empty beer cups at Mycrofts feet and splashing his slacks with the sticky liquid.

Mycroft was red in the face, arms held out slightly to the side as he looked down at what had been a good shirt. Seemingly uncaring for the man growing even angrier for some reason.

“That’s enough.” Greg snapped, stepping between the two. Mycroft might have been a pretty twat but he hadn’t done a damn thing to deserve this.

“It’s quite alright, Gregory. If I were worried my girlfriend was pregnant by my best mate I would be a little on the barbaric side myself.” Mycroft said over him.

“What did you say?!” The man roared, a vein sticking out on his forehead.

Greg was speechless, looking over his shoulder at Mycroft. “You’ve been suspecting it for quite some time. Tonight you were hoping to forget the entire mess and lose yourself in a few drinks. I would be careful if I were you. Alcoholism runs in your family.”

Without another word Mycroft walked off, leaving a stunned Greg behind before he followed quickly.

Everyone was heading into the concert itself, making it a bit easier to find a clear bathroom.

“Mycroft! What the hell was that?”

Mycroft tensed, sneering over his shoulder. “That was me stating the obvious. No one ever cares to see the facts unless they’re pointed out.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about but that was actually pretty bitchin’. How did you know all of that?”

“As I have already said, they were obvious facts. Now, if you would please leave while I attempt to clean up.”

Greg looked from the bathroom door to Mycroft, clearing his throat. “At least you fit in more now, right?” He chuckled weakly.

“If you would please just go, Gregory.”

This. . wasn’t fair. Rubbing the back of his head Greg again looked between the door and Mycroft. He couldn’t just go and let Holmes handle this himself. It just wouldn’t be right was all.

Pulling off the somewhat dingy flannel he cleared his throat so Mycroft would look back at him. “That shirt’s a lost cause, mate. How about you borrow this until we get back to the hotel? I got my band shirt and all.” Greg offered, frowning when Mycroft hesitated. “At least it doesn’t reek of beer, aye? You want the bloody shirt or not?”

Their hands brushed as Mycroft took the shirt, sending a jolt through his arm into his chest. “Thank you, Greg. This is most kind.”

Mycroft turned away again, starting to unbutton his shirt to change.

“So, this your first concert?” Greg asked to break the silence, looking up at a speaker in the bathroom corner that started blaring the bands music so no one would miss anything.

“Of this sort, yes.” Mycroft tried to wipe the sticky mess from his chest and stomach before pulling on Gregs shirt. “Your shirt is missing buttons.”

“Then don’t wear it.” He said but there wasn’t any venom in his words. “I’m sure no one would mind a little skin.”

Mycroft stiffened in front of him, looking over his shoulder at him.

With a far too innocent look Greg stepped in closer, tugging the back of his shirt to pull it from Mycrofts shoulders. Freckles there too!

“I’d hate for your first concert to be ruined by some drunk bastard.” Greg explained, smirking at the other. A part of him half expected Mycroft to slap him and run out of the bathroom threatening to tell everyone he knew about this. So, it was an interesting surprise when Mycroft merely huffed.

“How do you propose to make it better?”

 

They were on a time crunch; the both of them knew that. Anyone could walk in at any moment but instead of cooling their desires it just made them more urgent and demanding.

Greg pulled Mycroft into a stall towards the end; latching the door shut he pulled Mycroft in closer. Taking the others hands he pulled them up, keeping eye contact as he linked them over the top part of the door. “Don’t let go.” He teased, leaning in closer to press their lips together slowly.

He brought his own hands down, taking the chance to explore every inch of Mycrofts soft torso. Sticky from beer sure but none the less appealing. Bending at the knees Greg licked at one nipple, smirking to himself when Mycroft groaned low and arched into the attention. Greg bit down now, twisting the other nipple between his finger-tips.

Dropping down further Greg smirked when Mycroft protested him kneeling on a bathroom floor. “Just stuff it, Holmes.” Greg playfully ordered, grabbing him by the hips and mouthing at his clothed erection through the dark slacks.

He wanted to take Mycroft apart until they were both spent. Licking a wet spot on the dark fabric he pulled back, undoing the button and zipper quickly. It almost wasn’t enough. Greg wanted Mycroft spread out before him and begging, wearing one of Gregs shirts as he was shagged good and proper.

Pumping his hand along the others cock Greg licked teasingly at the head, other hand reaching between his own legs to try and ease the deep ache there. “That’s right. Can’t be too loud or someone might hear.” Greg murmured, moving his hand faster as he looked up at Mycrofts face. Flushed and eyes watching his every move.

Keeping their eyes locked he swirled his tongue around the head; teasing the foreskin before showing just how little of a gag reflex he had by swallowing the length down. “Greg!” Mycroft moaned, thrusting his hips forward and licking his lips. “Obviously y-you’ve done this before. You never a-admit it but you love it.”

Was Mycroft really talking like that now? And was Greg really getting turned on by it?

Greg listened to Mycroft detail his every dirty secret, running his tongue around the throbbing cock between his lips as he bobbed his head. His own length was becoming increasingly harder to ignore but what to do? There was no lube or protection here. His back up stash was in the bloody car.

Long fingers tugged at his head, yanking him back far enough to where only the tip of Mycrofts cock touched his lips. “You actually found everything I said arousing. Interesting.” Mycroft practically purred, gripping the dark brown and silver hair tightly to use to pull Greg back up into a standing postion.

Now Greg felt his back hit the bathroom stall door, the contact muffled only by the music still blaring form the speakers. Lips were against his in a flash, a soft tongue teasing his lips open as a hand undid his jeans.

It was like the other just knew what the other was thinking. Greg reached down to grab Mycrofts groin, other hand ruffling up his hair as he fought to get back in control. Likewise Mycroft wrapped elegant fingers around his dick, using the pre-cum as adequate lube before he started stroking.

His heart almost hurt from how hard it was beating. Not to mention Greg was half worried his knees were about to give out. “I’m so bloody close, Mycroft. So close.” Greg moaned, moving his hand faster as Mycroft returned the favor.

“I k-know, Greg.” Mycroft gasped, tensing as a heat spilled over Gregs hand. Feeling the sticky mess pushed him over the edge. Starting to shake Greg came over the still pumping hand, head slamming back against the dark colored stall door.

They stood there breathing heavily, leaning on each other for support. What they’d done didn’t exactly sink in right away until the afterglow started to fade.

Now Greg noticed his phone buzzing in his pocket. How he’d managed to miss it was a mystery. Feeling warm lips press against his throat he grinned, reaching lazily for the phone. Okay, maybe it wasn’t so much of a mystery.

“Ya?” He answered, running his hand over Mycrofts arse.

“Greg? Where are you guys?! Is everything okay?” Molly had to yell over the music in the background.

“Everything’s great. Mycroft just had a run in with a prick but everything’s great now. We’ll be right there.” He promised before hanging up, slipping the phone back into his pocket. “Guess that’s our cue.” Greg chuckled, the sound turning into a ragged moan when teeth dug into his throat.

“You are a questionable influence, Greg Lestrade.” Mycroft sighed.


	2. First time for everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter 2 makes ya'll happy.

After a quick clean up, not to mention tossing that beer soaked shirt into the trash, both boys were out and hurrying to find their group. Mycroft kept fiddling with the flannel shirt, making displeased faces as if the fabric were somehow offensive.

Greg rolled his eyes at one point, tugging on the front end and pulling Mycroft close to plant a kiss on his cheek. “I’m sure they wouldn’t mind a little skin.” He offered again, laughing at the sudden blush and harsh glare.

“Lestrade!” Sallys voice was the first thing to greet them, as well as a somewhat blinding flash of a disposable camera.

“Oi, sod off, Donovan!” Greg growled playfully, snatching the camera from her quickly.

The concert was better than Greg had ever hoped for. Okay. It wasn’t just the concern that made his night so much better. The other reason stood there looking completely out of place but still somehow looking pleased with himself in flannel that didn’t suit him at all. And he still hadn’t noticed the camera pointed right at him until Molly giggled from behind him and waved.

“Gregory!” Mycroft snapped, trying to block the shot of his face right as the flash went off.

The camera got passed around between them, as well as other concert goers that were polite enough to return it. Greg wondered if he should take out a bet on how many pictures of dicks there might be. Something to watch Phil get flustered over at least.

At one point during the event Greg wrapped his arm around Mycrofts waist, starting to whisper something in his ear.

“You reek of alcohol.” Mycroft sighed but he didn’t look completely offended. “Your friends will notice if you keep this up.” He added in a softer tone, not making a move to remove the arm around his waist.

“I’ve only had a few drinks.” Greg said in defense of himself, squeezing the flannel clad waist gently before slipping his arm away.

 

As the concert drew to a close Greg finished off his last drink, wincing at the bitter taste. Things were a little buzzy and it only faintly occurred to him that they had to drive back to the hotel.

Phil and Sally were hanging onto each other, necking until someone complained for them to get a room. Only to have the process start all over again a few minutes later.

“Shite, we drove both cars, didn’t we?” Greg moaned, ruffling his mess of hair like that would somehow sober him up in a matter of seconds. Standing outside in the chilled air didn’t help much either.

“I can drive Sally and Phil. Mycroft, would you mind driving Gregs car?” Molly asked with a small but pleading smile.

“Hey, what makes you think I want a stranger driving my car?” Greg asked but then he giggled drunkenly. They were hardly strangers now! When Mycroft held out his hand for the keys Greg placed them in the out stretched palm willingly, wrapping his fingers around Mycrofts hand and grinning. “Know how to drive a stick?”

“Don’t listen to him. His car isn’t a stick shift.” Molly sighed, gently punching Greg on the arm before ushering Phil and Sally to the other car.

Rubbing the spot Molly had punched Greg gave a playful pout, leaning closer into Mycrofts space. “Kiss it and make it better?”

Rolling his eyes Mycroft led him to the car. “You are drunk. Do behave yourself.”

Behave? Where was the fun in that? Lounging back in the passenger seat Greg eyed Mycroft, still smiling. “You look cute wearing that.”

Not even a sharp retort.

“Are you angry at me or somethin’? Look, if you’re mad about before I’m sorry. Kinda anyway. I mean. . shite. .” Greg suddenly felt confused, the world starting to spin as he leaned back against the seat and just let them drive in silence.

The only parking spot they could find was towards a dark spot; at least Greg assumed it was the only spot they could find at this hour.

At the sound of the drivers side door opening Greg reached across Mycrofts chest to pull it shut, bracing his hand on the drivers seat as he angled to look into the others face.

“You are merely acting under intoxication, Gregory. I am not regretful about our actions but. .”

“What? You think I will be? Mycroft, I wasn’t drunk in the bathroom when I got on my knees and blew you right there.” Greg watched the color flare bright in Mycrofts face, mouth actually falling open as if shocked. “Are you embarrassed that it was in a bathroom? Or because it was me?”

“You buffoon.” Mycroft snapped, grabbing Greg by the back of the head and yanking him forward.

God, the hotel room was just so close. It was just filled with three other people. Why couldn’t he just kick them out? Reaching to the side of the seat he tugged on the little handle to send the seat flying back, almost giggling when Mycroft gasped as he went flying backward.

“Would it be considered rude to kick the others out tonight?” Greg asked with a grin, crawling onto Mycrofts lap and going for the buttons of the very familiar flannel. “Just for a few hours.” He rambled, leaning down to place kisses along the exposed throat as one hand found its way to an obviously chilled nipple.

“I-it would be considered v-very rude.” Mycroft panted, fingers digging into Gregs back.

The breathy way Mycroft kept trying to talk was almost adorable in how absurd it was. Grinding their lower bodies together Greg shivered as Mycroft moaned, holding onto him tighter now. “Car it is then.” Greg murmured more to himself, sucking a very pronounced hickey right on Mycrofts collar bone as his fingers teased at one of his nipples.

Turning attention to the other nipple Greg kept rocking his groin against Mycrofts, growing somewhat light headed when the other started bucking against him. Even through their layers of clothing he could feel how turned on Mycroft was. Moaning against his neck Greg tried to think of the best way to do this.

“Get to the back seat.” He said, kissing away any protest and sucking gently at a trembling lower lip before pulling away to roll back into the passenger’s seat. Popping open the glove compartment he yanked out a box of unopened condoms, along with a little bottle of lube. One of those ‘better safe than sorry’ kits.

 

It was surprisingly comfortable for the both of them in the back seat. Wadding up the flannel shirt Mycroft had been wearing Greg shoved it under the boys head as a pillow, worried about him hitting his head against one of the doors if things got rough. It was just a bonus that Mycroft was now half naked.

Yanking off his own shirt Greg tossed it towards the front half of the car. It did take a little maneuvering to get Mycrofts trousers off but in Gregs mind it was totally worth the effort.

Reaching down he rubbed at what he pictured to be a darker spot than the fabric around it, kneading the hard cock as he knelt there between Mycrofts spread legs. Desperate hands clung to the seats on either side of them, Mycroft biting at his lower lip.

“Think you’ll be able to keep it quiet, My?” Greg chuckled, tracing the outline of his arousal through the pants. Pulling the edge down slowly he watched Mycrofts reaction, the way his eyes grew hazy as his cock twitched.

The pants were a little harder to get off but when they were Greg held them up one handed, other hand lazily brushing along Mycrofts thighs but not quite touching the juncture between his thighs. What he wouldn’t give for a camera to get a good memory of this! 

“Don’t say something so ludicrous.” Mycroft moaned, making Greg realize he’d actually said the camera bit out loud.

Pinching a fleshy part of the boys thigh Greg smirked lazily when Mycroft yelped softly. “Shut it, Holmes.” He said playfully, dropping the pants and reaching for the lube now as his other hand kept teasing but not touching.

Greg ran his hand through the small puddle of clear liquid on Mycrofts stomach, smearing the pre-cum slightly before bringing his hand up to Mycrofts lips. Without needing to be told the soft tongue darted out, licking his fingers clean.

 

There was a bark of laughter somewhere outside, reminding them both they weren’t in the most private of conditions.

Pulling his hand back Greg lubed up his fingers as quickly as his drunken pace would allow.

“Have you ever. .”

“I have n-never had the chance before.” Mycroft admitted, visibly trembling as Greg pressed just one finger at the tight ring of muscle.

Greg circled the hole gently before pressing his finger inside up to the second knuckle, leaning down to kiss Mycroft firmly. “Tell me if it’s too much.” Greg said calmly, despite the fact he was mentally debating if they should just stop. It hadn’t even occurred to him that Mycroft might be a virgin. He was a preppy twat but he was cute. 

“Do not even dare think of stopping!” Mycroft snapped, head turning as the finger went in deeper.

Leaning down closer Greg kissed him softly, distracting him with that before adding in another finger. “I got you, My. Just hold onto me.” He said, nodding when shaking hands rested on his shoulders. “That’s it, My. I got you.”

Working the two fingers in deeper Greg watched for any reaction, kissing his lips over and over when Mycroft squeezed his shoulders.

Suddenly Mycroft let out a strangled cry of pleasure, hips bucking upward to press the two fingers in deeper. That was the spot he wanted. Greg massaged that little area over and over, biting little marks along Mycrofts shoulders and upper chest.

After the third finger Mycroft was begging for more, digging his nails into Gregs shoulders and moaning against his lips.

“Tell me if you need me to stop.” Greg said, pulling his fingers out and pushing his trousers down enough to slip a condom on.

“Don’t.”

Greg normally wouldn’t be so quick to listen but at the sight of Mycroft watching his cock with lusting eyes was enough to let the drinks and lust take control. Tossing the condom away Greg took another moment to lube himself up, moaning softly as he stroked himself.

Getting into position Greg kept reminding himself to go slow as he pushed in, biting his lip to the point he could taste the faint tang of copper. Fingers gripped his shoulders painfully, tugging him down. “I got you, My.” He whispered over and over, only going in deeper when the death grip at his shoulders loosened.

It felt like the process took forever but it was all about going slow. What was the point if Mycroft didn’t enjoy himself? With that thought Greg reached between them to grasp the others neglected cock, teasing the head with his thumb.

Finally inside Greg groaned into their kiss, moving his hand slowly but not stopping as he gave Mycroft a minute to adjust.

The pace he set up was slow at first, increasing as Mycroft started whispering lustful pleas into his ear. When the twit switched over to French Greg wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or just cum. “Bloody English!” He moaned, slamming inside on one powerful thrust that ripped a strangled sentence from Mycroft.

Greg slammed a hand against the fog covered window to brace himself, hips moving at a hard pace as Mycroft moaned.

“Greg! There! Please!” He begged.

The creaking car was filled with the wet sounds of him fucking Mycroft into the car seat, and their joined cries of pleasure that muffled out the buzzing phone in Gregs pocket.

“Gregory! Greg!” Mycroft tensed now, tightening around him almost painfully. Greg gasped as he felt warm spurts coat his hand, some even landing on his own stomach.

“Mycroft!” Greg yelled the name, forgetting where they were as everything seemed to go white.

 

Coming back to himself Greg found himself laid out on top of the other, soft hands running along his back to keep him in place.

Laughing softly Greg nuzzled into Mycrofts neck, licking at a purple bruise he’d left there.

“I would think laughing is not exactly the response one would hope for in such a situation.” Mycroft said, hands growing still.

“I wasn’t laughing laughing. Not at you or anything. Just had a thought was all.” Greg huffed, biting the hickey gently.

“Let us hope thinking hasn’t caused you any strain. For curiosity sake, what crossed your mind now?”

Greg melted when the soothing hands took up their gentle pace, fingers now running through his hair. “Just thinking about Molly.” He murmured before the words actually sunk in. “Oh hell. I was thinking if she could get a ride with Sally and Phil!” Greg tried to explain quickly, starting to sit up.

“And why would she need to do that?” The question hurt a bit more than Greg wanted to admit as he sat up to look down into Mycrofts face. Stormy gray eyes flashed with amusement when their eyes met, and Greg couldn’t stop the grin forming.

“You are a questionable influence, Mycroft Holmes.” Greg mocked playfully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now I just want to write a chapter where Greg finds out Mycroft has a picture taken of them at the concert in his notebook or something. It's all blurry and shit but Mycroft keeps it tucked away in a binder.
> 
> Sherlock would give him so much shit for that.


End file.
